


Memoir of A Pretzel

by bigyeetyrus



Category: No Fandom
Genre: Abandonment, Badly Written, Being Lost, Being different, Birth Defects, Food, Gen, Hopeful Ending, I Tried, IM NOT LIKE OTHER PRETZELS GANG, Loneliness, Memoirs, Moral Lessons, POV First Person, POV Inanimate Object, Pretzels, Random & Short, Weirdness, back on my bullcrap and writing about inanimate objects, cross-posted on storyfire, i must practice 40 hours a day, it isnt bad but yes it actually is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:21:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25662781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bigyeetyrus/pseuds/bigyeetyrus
Summary: Pretzels can come in all shapes and sizes. However, this pretzel didn't come in a very pretty shape.
Kudos: 2





	Memoir of A Pretzel

I am a pretzel.

A Snyder's Olde Tyme pretzel to be exact.

I am crunchy, yet no one will ever bite down on my delicious crunch. 

You see, I've been abandoned.

You're probably asking yourself, "How can a perfectly good pretzel be left in the cold with no warmth of a soft tongue and no prickly sensation of strong teeth biting down on your delicious crunch?"

Actually, you probably didn't ask yourself that. That was a pretty weird thought.

However, I asked myself that. I am a perfectly good pretzel! Or so I thought...

Again, I am an Olde Tyme pretzel, bigger and buttery than most (excluding the soft ones you find in malls and amusement parks. I would faint if I ever saw a real soft pretzel in real life!).

Unfortunately, I'm not like all the other "regular" ones. I am misshaped.

My top left curve droops down into my middle. Not to mention, my back is a little extra darker. Some might think it's burnt.

I don't know how it happened, but it doesn't really matter. It's not like one of the factory workers sneezed on me and walked away.

Apparently it does matter though... how else would I wound up on the side of the road?

Sadly, you heard correctly. A big old Olde Tyme pretzel shouldn't be living on the streets of NYC, yet here we are.

It's crowded, dusty, loud, and I hate it.

I was dropped by some five or six year old who didn't want to eat me outside of a fancy hotel. Their mom didn't even notice her kid littering.

I've been laying in the same spot for so long. 

At nighttime, I'm in the shadows. No one can see me. At daytime, it's almost the same. Just hotter.

I'm surprises no one has noticed me yet, but I'm also not. The streets of New York are busier than ever. The factory I was made at doesn't even close to the chaos that is this street.

Oh, imagine winter. That would be a nightmare. 

Curse that child. That Snyder's bag was good as new. I was good as new. 

...whatever. What are you gonna do? Track the family down and rob all their prized possessions? Kidnap them?

I'm a pretzel. There is no "tracking down". There is no "threatening".

But.. when was there "thinking"?

Food. Every type of food has one thing in common. Their sole purpose is to be eaten. Enjoyed.

But now I'm stale and crusty. I will be broken into tiny bits and crumbs and nipped at aimlessly by some nasty rat with wings.

Maybe I'll be swept away by some moron who sweeps the sidewalk. Maybe I'll be tossed in a trash can by the fancy hotel's doorman and dumped in a junkyard, left to slowly decompose into the rest of the garbage, forming into one with the earth.

But.. at least I'll be noticed. I would hold something's whole attention. I would be cared for.

One day. One day I will see the light.

Now all I have to do is wait.

**Author's Note:**

> IDK WHY BUT I WANTED TO POST SOMETHING SO HERE >~< why did you read this, my friend? just why? well, thank you anyway it really means a lot :') i really need to update that one fmip angst fic-


End file.
